Made for You
by loveu5missu6
Summary: She was made for him, she was sure. There would be a lot of secrets, and a lot of drama...but she knew she wanted him. Stiles/OC SHORT STORY, WILL NOT BE STRINGING ALONG VERY LONG!
1. Chapter 1

**Stiles/OC**

**First ever Teen Wolf FanFic ! **

I heard my father screaming from downstairs, as I picked up the purple off the shoulder top off of the bed, and pulled it over my white camisole. "Coming, Dad!" I yelled. I looked in the mirror, at my face. My face, which looked more like my dead mother, Carolyn's was pretty. I had thin lips and bright blue eyes. I had acquired almost no features from my father, except for my nose, which was small and short. It wasn't as long as my mother's.

"Seriously, Ella, _hurry_ up!"

I grabbed my messenger bag, and my purse. I picked my phone off the charger and stuffed it in the back pocket of my light washed jeans. I jogged downstairs.

"Okay, dad! I'm ready!"

My father, Jason was sitting on the table, drinking his morning coffee. "Ella, what on _earth_ are you wearing?"

I rolled my eyes and flipped my blonde hair over my shoulder. "You know clothes."

Dad sighed, "You don't have time to change. Tomorrow you're wearing something _appropriate_."

"Whatever."

This was the first day of school for me. Since dad had gotten transferred from his job in New Jersey, we'd moved to Beacon Hills. I don't even know what dad's job is. I just knew it barely paid for our apartment, and we were barely getting by.

Ever since my mom died three years ago, my father kept to himself. We grew apart, and I became more rebellious. I broke curfew, I threw my used condoms in the trash can where he could see. I got a twenty year old boyfriend, and brought him over all the time, even allowing him to spend the night.

So here we are. Me in my tight clothes; my dad uptight about everything in my life.

I'm seventeen, and my name's technically Eleanor Marie Constance, after my great grandmother. Eleanor used to be me whenever I was into Clifford, and Timmy Rockwell, a "cute" boy in third grade. Now, I'm Ellie.

But my dad can't even handle _that_, hence why he calls me Ella. It's better than Eleanor, but it sill sound uptight.

I guess it suits my father's personality.

My dad insists on dropping me off, on his way to work.

"Have a good day!" my father calls after me. I don't offer anything as I step out onto the sidewalk, my heels clicking. I feel hungry eyes on me, and I'm loving it.

I walk to the front desk, and get my schedule. It's mid September, and all the girls are wearing high heels, low cut shirts, and short shorts.

I head to homeroom, after finding my locker and dropping off the messenger bag. All I take for homeroom is my textbook for first period.

I may be rebellious, but I'm still trying to get into Yale. I have an 'A' average, and I'm not letting it drop, even though I'm starting late.

I stand by the teacher's desk, as everyone takes their seats. The teacher's not here yet, so everyone's on their phones, kissing their boyfriends, or listening to their iPods. Not many people take attention to me, and I'm grateful. I feel out of place no matter where I am.

I decide to pull out my phone. I have three new text messages, all from Amber, my best friend from Jersey. I don't check any of them, no doubt their about her _first time_ with her boyfriend, Zach. I'm mad at her anyways. She missed my leaving the state, to have sex with her ugly boyfriend.

The only people that came to that were Chase, my ex-boyfriend, and my first time, and Hilly, the girl that made my life a living hell until last year, where she needed help. That's whenever she apologized.

Finally, the teacher emerges. He has curly brown hair that falls to his shoulders. He's carrying a white mug, and as he walks, a computer bag on his shoulder, the black liquid sloshes out of the mug. He looks at me, "You must be Eleano-"

I stop him there. "It's Ellie."

"Alright…_Ellie_." He sets the mug down on the table, causing more to slosh out. He holds out his hand, and I take it, looking at them together, "I'm Mr. Harris, I'll be your homeroom teacher for the year. Welcome to Beacon High. We're glad to have you here." He looks around. I see that everyone hasn't stopped playing on their phones or iPods. The couples have stopped kissing though. Mr. Harris doesn't even seem to notice the big, chunky phones that are still out. "Can you put your things down for a moment?" His voice is strong, and it does not falter.

Everyone takes out their earbuds, or puts down their phones, and they all look at Mr. Harris.

Mr. Harris smiles, "Everyone please welcome Miss Ellie Constance! She's new here. I'm sure someone in here has her schedule."

He takes the schedule from my fingers, and looks at all of the classes. "Oh, my." He sighs. "This can't be right."

I look at him, "What?"

He ignores me, "Stiles."

"Style what?"

"Where's Mr. Stillinski?" He asks.

Suddenly, a figure bursts through the door. "I'm here, Mr. Harris!" I look over, and see this boy. He's about seventeen. He has black hair that's cut shortish, and these gorgeous hazel eyes. "I'm here…" he breathes. In his hands, he has a big chunky phone, and a silver laptop.

Mr. Harris sighs. "Lovely. Mr. Stillinski, I'd like you to meet Miss Ellie Constance. You'll be showing her to her classes for a few days."

The boy looks at me and back at Mr. Harris. "But if I show her around, I'll be late to all my classes."

"You shouldn't be, Mr. Stillinski. You two have the exact same schedules," Mr. Harris shoots me a small smile, "Ellie, this is Stiles."

Stiles looks at Mr. Harris, "Alright. I'll show her around."

My teacher smiles, "Awesome! Ellie, why don't you go sit next to Stiles. Get acquainted with him?"

I shrug, and look at Stiles.

Stiles rolls his eyes, and begins walking to his seat. "Ellie!" Mr. Harris calls to me. "If you have _any_ trouble with Mr. Stillinski, don't be afraid to tell me," he says, and looks at Stiles. "Mr. Stiles happens to be our troublemaker. If I found out he's doing anything wrong, he'll have detention with me afterschool for a month. Understood, Stiles?"

Stiles sighs, "Yes, sir."

He sits at the back, in front of a long black table, large enough for two. I sit next to him, and watch him lay his laptop on the table.

"So you're aloud to have your phones out?"

Stiles looks over at me, and his hazel eyes are glittering. "Yep. Well, just in Mr. Harris' homeroom and study hall. Which we are so lucky to have both. All of the other teachers are sourpusses."

He boots up the laptop, and types in the password, his fingers flying over the table. I find myself just staring at him as he logs onto his e-mail. He types quickly, and hits the send button quickly as well, as if he's hiding something. I don't mind, because all I'm watching is his face.

He's attractive.

Not just one-night stand material attractive, but I would go out with him. That's a lot coming from me. But for some reason, I'm drawn to this boy with the unusual name. I'm not just drawn to him sexually, with sexual feelings – I would be willing to have a relationship with him.

I have no idea why. It's absolutely ridiculous. I've just met the guy, and I barely know him. But for some reason, every time he blinks, or clenches his jaw, my heart just melts a little more.

This feeling is warm, and it most certainly does _not_ belong in someone like _Ellie Constance_. It belongs in some sweet girl. That isn't me.

I'm brought out of my daze by Stiles staring at me. "Ellie!" he smirks. "It's time to go to first period."

I see he's already shut down his laptop, and he's now texting someone. He shoves his phone back in his pocket quickly, and lays the laptop on his hip.

"I need to go to my locker. What's you locker number? We have five minutes before we need to be there. I'm usually just a minute or two late."

"Um…six o' five."

Stiles genuinely smiles for the first time since I've met him, "Awesome. That's right next to my best friend…and me. I'm six sixteen. Scott's six o' two."

He walks out of the classroom, with me, not far behind. Now is whenever I realize that Stiles is way taller than me, by far. He has to be at least five nine. I'm barely five two, and I've been done growing since ninth grade. It's senior year now.

"So, Ellie. What brings you to Beacon Hills?"

I stutter my answer, "Uh- my d-dad, he got transferred."

Stiles raises an eyebrow, "Not many places to get transferred from here, but it's possible I guess. Where's he work?"

"I have no idea." I'm blushing. I never blush. Especially not in front of guys. I'm the kind of girl that can walk up to a guy and ask him if he has a condom and free night.

"You don't know where your own father works?" he asks, chuckling.

I find more confidence, luckily. "Nope." I pop the 'p'.

"Alright then." Stiles says. We're downstairs now, and in front of our lockers.

I open my locker and pull out my textbooks for periods one and two. I grab a pen and a binder that has my papers in it.

We make it to class, about a minute before the bell rings. I meet the teacher. This is how it's going to be the entire day. "Welcome, Ellie!" Her names Miss Call. She's younger than I expected, and way nicer than I expected. She looks around at the class. Everyone is texting under tables or chewing and popping gum loudly. She points to a girl with curly red hair. "Sit next to Lydia." She says.

Lydia's a rich girl I soon find out. Her pens are designed by Christina Aguilera, and Demi Lovato. She wears the nicest clothes, but somehow, an orange string with a key hanging from her neck has worked its way into her wardrobe. She's beautiful, and polite. She's smart too. She offers me the answers to the homework from last night.

"So, Ellie, right?"

I nod and smile at her, "Yep."

"You're super pretty," she says as she ruffles her red hair. "What's your next class?"

I look down at my schedule. "I have…computer tech with Mrs. Velour."

Lydia scrunches up her nose and picks at her perfectly manicured nails, "She can barely hear anyone. So she talks loud. I had her last year, _and_ I have her again this year. Easy A." She sings the last part, and I realiz this girl is perfect. Her voice is beautiful as well as her face. _And_ she's nice. That's hard to find.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, doing math problems, before she breaks the silence. "So who's the lucky gal or guy that gets to show you around?"

I look over, to find Stiles sticking a pencil up his nose, and somehow, my face burns with enchantment. "Um… Stiles."

Lydia giggles. "Stiles?"

"Yeah…" I sigh.

"He's sweet, isn't he? He used to have this _adorable_ crush on me!" She smiles, "Now I have a boyfriend, and Stiles is just having fun with Scott and Allison. I swear, he follows them on their dates. It's cute though."

I smile and look over at him, biting my lower lip.

Lydia suddenly squeals, throwing her pen in the air. "Oh. My. God!"

"What?' I ask jumping as she squeals and jumps.

"You _like_ Stiles!"

**a/n: wow this was long ! I am **_**very**_** proud of myself ! :D Well … I shall go … uhm , write part two ? **


	2. Chapter 2

It's been a month since Lydia and I had our little chat about me liking Stiles. Since then, I've met the entire gang, and I've been accepted. I also found out all about the couples.

First, there's Lydia and Jackson, who make the cutest couple in my opinion. He kisses her every time he sees her, and tells her she's beautiful.

Then, there's Allison and Scott. Allison has become one of my best friends since arriving. I've been to her house more times than I can count in the last month. Scott and Allison's relation is for some reason, secret.

Then there's me and Stiles. The awkward two that are single. Allison knows that I like him, and so does Lydia. They spend every single second, when they're not with their boyfriends, trying to get me and Stiles together. It's sweet, but creepy.

I throw my black school t-shirt on the ground, and pick up the white school one. Its team spirit day at school, thanks to the lacrosse game that we're playing against Freeman High. They're hard, as far as I can tell, but I've only been here a month.

I find the pair of orange skinny jeans lying neatly folded on the chair in the corner of my room, and slip them over my bare legs. I straighten my hair and then pull it up into a neat ponytail. Allison agreed to pick me up today. My dad agreed to let me stay the night over at Allison's. It is, after all, a Friday, and I don't have work tonight.

I throw one of my brand new school sweatshirts on, and find my bag of paint in the back of my closet. Back whenever it was cool to paint the school's colors on your face, I bought all of this paint. This school, does the exact same thing. Ali, me and Lydia all agreed with the boys that we would paint our faces.

I paint a little B on one cheek and an H on the other one in white and orange paint. I outline them with black. I grab my black Sharpie and write go Beacon High on my wrist, where no one can see it.

I take the phone off of the charger and send a quick picture of my face to Stiles.

_Is this enough school spirit? – Ellie_

After I hit send, I walk downstairs, and grab a pop tart. Dad's already gone, so I have to lock up. I lock all the doors; grab my messenger bag, my pop tart, and an iced tea. I sit on the swing and wait for Allison.

As her car pulls up, I take my seat in the front seat. She turns the radio down, and grins at me, "_So_…Ellie."

I look at her and sigh and mentally groan, "What did you do, Allison?"

She squeals as she pushed back a strand of her black hair, which she's, died orange and white strips through for the game. Her face is painted perfectly with half of it orange and half of it white. She looks amazing. "So, you know how we're all going to see that new horror film festival tonight, after the game at the drive-in?" she asks. She begins driving towards the school.

"Yeah."

"Well…I asked Scott to talk to Stiles and ask him who he was taking."

"We all have to take someone?"

Allison giggles, "He said, and I quote," she giggles, and pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, "'Nobody, but I was gonna ask Ellie if she wanted to go with me!'"

And suddenly, me and Allison are both squealing with giddiness. "He _said_ that?"

"He said that!"

"Okay, anymore details, my _sexiest_ bestest friend?"

Allison grins, "He's definitely doing it today. I had Scott convince him to!"

I smile goofily, "I freaking love you!"

We find our way to the school, and I leave my backpack and sleeping over bag in the back of her car. "I cannot wait until tonight!"

"I can't wait until today!" she smiles. "We have the entire day to do spirit things, which means _no classes_!"

It's true. Our classes were officially cut for today because they needed extra lacrosse practice, and the teachers just decided that we could just do spirit activities, like design posters and stuff. It's practically _mandatory_ to go to all lacrosse games.

The people that don't are probably skipping today.

I give Allison a quick hug, and make my way upstairs. I find my seat in homeroom, and see the seat next to it is empty. It's early though, for Stiles at least. Everyone files in, and eventually, Stiles does too.

He sets his phone on the desk and looks over at me. "Hey, Ell."

I smile, "Hey."

"I can't believe today's the _big_ game!"

I grin, "Me neither."

I've been here a whole month, and I already know everything there is to know about lacrosse. I know who the best players are, who just so happen to be my favorite boys – Stiles, Scott, and Jackson.

I sigh and look ahead. Mr. Harris is writing something on the chalkboard, while everyone else is texting or doing something. Everyone has their team spirit going on.

"So, Ellie…"

I look up, and see Stiles clamping his hands down on the edge of the table. He looks nervous.

"Yeah?"

Stiles sighs, his breath coming out shaky and uneven, "I've been meaning to ask you…this for a while." Stiles sighs, "God, I have no clue why this is so hard," he looks up at me, and sets his hand on my leg. My entire body goes into shock, "But…well, Ellie…would you…like to be my date for tonight?"

"I'd love to!" I squeal. And suddenly, my arms are slung around Stiles' neck, and I'm sitting on his lap, my chest pressed against his chest.

We win the game. It's a big win too, with them scoring a whopping score of zero.

All of us take different cars to meet up at the drive-ins. There are five movies, and the movies start around six thirty. The game ends around five thirty, leaving us with half an hour to pick up snacks and let us get changed into our pajamas. The guys end up taking the same car, and Lydia comes with me and Allison.

"I can't believe he finally asked you!" Lydia squeals.

I smile. We've all changed into our boxer shorts and camisoles, and washed the paint off our faces, and taken off all of the makeup and scum. We look beautiful natural. I pull my long blond hair into a messy bun, and then grab one of Allison's blankets from her closet. We all got pillows and blankets.

I check my phone's clock. "It's six o' five."

Allison looks at her watch, "Yeah. We gotta go."

We lock up Allison's house, because her parents are on some weird business trip, and her grandfather is already out like a light. Me and Lydia manage to both squeeze onto the front seat, me sitting on her lap.

Once at the theater, we see the boys already setting up the back of Scott and Jackson's pickup trucks. They've laid blankets and such out. And then there's another pickup truck. Stiles is sitting on the edge of the bed.

I walk over and giggle, "Where'd you get a pickup truck?"

He grins, "I know a guy." He smiles, and takes my hand. He helps me get into the bed.

"Of course you do." I take his hand and lay the pillow down. I lay against it, propping my head up, so I can see the screen.

He lies next to me, and looks at my face. "You look beautiful with no makeup on, Ellie." He whispers.

I blush, and I have no idea why. "I don't." I whisper.

"How come girls always say that? That they aren't beautiful? They know that they are."

I shrug, "Because it's hard to believe something anyone says, especially a teenage boy, who is sex crazy and wants to get laid. Usually, if a guy's just telling a girl that she's beautiful, he wants to get laid."

Stiles begins to uncontrollably laugh. "Yeah, cause all guys are pigs!"

"Some guys are." I sigh.

Stiles rolls his eyes, and sits up, "I'm not. I'm a freaking virgin, okay? But I know for sure, you aren't."

My jaw drops, and suddenly, tears are rolling down my face. "You know nothing about me, Stillinski." I cry, "Nothing."

I grab the pillow, wiping my face with the back of my hand and walking out in front of all of the beds. Scott and Allison are kissing each other, and Lydia and Jackson are talking sweetly to one another, him holding her in his arms.

"Allison!" I yell. "I'm taking your car. I'm going to go home. I'm obviously not wanted here anyways."

And with that, I take the car keys from her purse and take her car, driving with tears streaming down my face.

It's all too good to be true. All of it.

Love.

**a/n: aww… so… I have no idea what their school colors are. Okay… one more chapter left. This is just a three-shot ! Cause I got other crap that I should be updating. But … uggh ! so hard being stupid and full of ideas ! **


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